Reaching In, Nothing Left
by Ashitaka99
Summary: What mental downhill spiral does Romano go through before he makes his final decision? A song fic involving character death, suicide, swearing, violence, depression. Rated M for a reason.


**Mushi Mushi my dear readers! I am posting my warnings as per usual. Please read through these, but if you don't you may end up reading something you don't like. **

**This is a song fic. This has character death, suicide, swearing, and more. It is rated M for a reason, and take that into consideration before reading this story. Thank you.**

**I don't own the characters as they are owned by the Hetalia creator as well as the lyrics which is Crawling in my skin by Linkin Park.**

**Thank you for taking the time to read my AN warnings and such. Please enjoy the story for what it is.**

**Ashitaka**

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><p><em><strong>"Fear is how I fall<strong>_

_**Confusing what is real"**_

Dear...What the hell should I fucking call you?

I sure am not going to leave a fucking sappy little "To whom it may concern" crappy letter for you all to find. I'm not that fucking pathetic. But then again, maybe I am fucking pathetic. I mean, look at what I am writing, what I am doing. I bet you are all wondering why I did this, why I "did not spill my fucking heart out" the way that my fucking bastard fratello does. I could NEVER be that fucking annoying.

Well I COULDN'T tell you the why or any of that crap because really...why would you give a damn? No one has in all this time, and no one will after finding my note or me. I'm just fucking done with the crap. I'm DONE with being over looked and compared to Feliciano!

I am not good looking.

I cannot cook.

I cannot clean.

I am not artistic.

I am not loved.

I am unwanted.

What difference would it make if I die? I suppose my stupid lazy ass brother will have to do his own work from now on but then again, the Potato-Bastard will probably help him get it done anyways so I am not worried about that. No one sees me anyways, not even that tomato loving bastard Antonio! All they see is Feliciano, all the nations see HIM as Italy, and forget that we BOTH make up Italy!

I love my fratello, I fucking do. Even though he is an annoying fucking piss-ant. To the Potato-Bastard: You better fucking look after Feli or else I'll come back and haunt your ass! To the fucking Tomato-Bastard: You didn't see me for me, you seen me for my land, my mafia, or for the influence over Feli. Fuck you.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK!

I'm fucking tired of being over looked. I'm fucking tired of never being seen by anyone. I'm fucking DONE!

Damned if I fucking know how to end this letter to you all so bye.

Lovino

_**"There's something inside me that pulls beneath the surface"**_

Smiling a warped smile of self-satisfaction, he laid the pen down beside his journal he was writing in and got up from his desk. He walked into his ensuite, pulling his hoodie off and tossing it on his bed before reaching it, he stood in front of his bathroom mirror as he looked down as his scar covered arms and stomach. He opened up the medicine cabinet long enough to pull out the brand new bottle of aspirin that he had bought the day before yesterday and a new razor blade. Walking back into his bed room, he grabbed a chilled bottle of wine that he had brought upstairs earlier and uncorked it. He moved to sit against his bed on the floor.

Popping the lid off the aspirin, he started to swallow handfuls of pills and wash them down with a swig from his wine to help with the act. Once he had swallowed about three quarters of the bottle, he picked up his razor blade and went to work, slicing up his arms with quick slashes.

_**"I've felt this way before**_

_**So insecure"**_

Watching the blood gush out of the wounds, he smiled and took a another large drink from the bottle. Picking up the razor up again, he repeated the process on his other arm. Throwing the razor down, he concentrated on the red liquid flowing out of the bottle and over his tongue. Chuckling to himself, he just kept tilting his head back until the bottle was too heavy for his arms to hold up and he dropped it to the floor.

_**"**__**Fear is how I fall**_

_**Confusing what is real"**_

"Al principio me has buscado un poco y que el mal, de lo bien que me consolaba que han desaparecido de mí como el agua entre mis manos, sólo han sido tres semanas y creo que han pasado muchos años." Antonio sang to himself as he let himself into Lovinos house. He was slightly surprised that the front door wasn't locked, that wasn't normal for him, but Antonio shrugged it off as he rolled his shoulders and shut the door behind himself.

"Lovi, mi tomate! Where are you?" In the preceding silence, he could hear a large thud from upstairs. Smiling, Antonio silently made his way to the staircase to surprise his lover.

_**"Discomfort endlessly has pulled itself upon me**_

_**Distracting, reacting**__**"**_

After dropping the wine to the bedroom floor, Lovino sighed and let his head drop backwards to rest on the bed. It was a struggle to stay awake now, and his heart felt like it was trying to beat its way out of his chest. Smiling, he was grateful to the buzz the alcohol gave him so that the pain from everything and the discomfort wasn't affecting him right now.

_I can finally let go now. This shit is over now. _Just as he was thinking that, there was a creak from just outside his bedroom, and the door was pushed open. His last conscious moment was hearing the horrified cry from Antonio as he rushed across the room towards him.

_**"To find myself again**_

_**My walls are closing in**__**"**_

After pushing the door open to Lovi's bedroom, Antonio's eyes flew wide at the horrifying site before him. Lovi was sitting on the floor in front of his bed, leaning back against it and his arms down at his sides with cuts on them pouring more blood out to join the pool s that he was sitting in. There was an empty wine bottle laying on the floor next to him as well as an empty medication bottle. That's when Antonio noticed that Lovi was facing him, looking at him.

With a cry, he rushed towards Lovi as the other's eyes slid closed and his breathing slowed down. On reaching Lovi's side, he pulled the pillowcases off the pillows and wrapped them around his arms as tightly as he could before he noticed that Lovi's chest had stopped moving entirely.

"NOOOOOO!" Antonio shrieked as he lowered Lovi to the floor to begin CPR and compressions.

_**"**__**These wounds they will not heal**__**"**_

"Even when I walk through the darkest valley, I will not be afraid, for you are close beside me. Your rod and your staff protect and comfort me. From dust to dust, ashes to ashes." The Pastor closed his bible, and motioned for the coffin to be lowered. As it was, Feli stepped forward and tossed in his handful of dirt as he openly sobbed and turning to run back to the comfort of Ludwigs arms. Antonio just stood by the open grave staring blankly, his eyes glazed over as the other attendants of the funeral came over to pass on their condolences. Nothing could breach the pain of having failing Lovi in his time of need. Nothing.

_**"Fear is how I fall**_

_**Confusing what is real"**_

After the funeral, Antonio went back to Lovi's house and up to the bedroom where it all happened. He sat on the bed, silent except for his thoughts, listening to the sounds of the house trying to figure out what those last hours of Lovi's life was like. What he was thinking. What drove him to do what he did. _Why did he have to leave me?_

_**"There's something inside me that pulls beneath the surface consuming,**_

_**Confusing what is real.**__**"**_

Walking over to Lovi's desk, he looked through the books that had fallen over in all the ruckus that had taken place that day, and found what he believed to be Lovi's journal. Picking it up, he walked back over to the bed, he read the entire thing, a timeline of Lovi's descent into depression, self-harm, self-hatred. How he believed everyone hated him, how he hated himself, how he hated his life and only sought escape from his pain. This journal was his way of reaching out, in a way that Antonio never was. Antonio was able to keep the tears that kept threatening to spill over from doing so until he read the last entry. Then he lost all his composure, sobbing heartbrokenly. With Lovi gone, all meaning to _his life_ was gone as well.

Clutching the journal to his chest, he ran out of the room, downstairs, and out the door past Ludwig and Feli who were coming up the walk way. They turn to watch him concernedly as he ran down the street towards his own house sobbing.

Once reaching his home, he flung the door open and entered the home. He went upstairs to his own bedroom where he and Lovi had spend many nights together in heated ecstasy. Sitting on his bed, he hugged the journal to his chest while digging in his nightstand drawer for his .44 Magnum.

Once found, he curled up on his side on the bed, holding Lovi's journal, smelling Lovi's scent in the tomato-shaped pillow he always used when he stayed over, and after placing the muzzle against his temple he pulled the trigger.

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><p><span><strong>Translations<strong>

_Fratello_ = brother

_Al principio me has buscado un poco y que el mal, de lo bien que me consolaba que han desaparecido de mí como el agua entre mis manos, sólo han sido tres semanas y creo que han pasado muchos años _= At the beginning you sought me a little and that evil, how well it consoled me. You have disappeared from me like water between my hands. It's only been three weeks and I feel that many years have passed.

_Mi tomate_ = my tomato


End file.
